Point
by Shawn-kun
Summary: A tale of a common soldier in ShinRa's standing army - his hopes dashed by the man with the spikey hair.


'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
He stood in the dark, dank alley. Refuse from the passing of innumerable people  
  
littered the ground around him. It was cold day. Though packed close together with  
  
the other ShinRa soldiers, he could still feel the winds chill. It bit at his face no  
  
matter which way he adjusted his mask. It found its way into small fissures and  
  
openings in his uniform, always there, always nagging, always.  
  
"Fine mess we've gotten ourselves into, eh, Kaj?" one of the nearby soldiers  
  
elbowed him. He recognized the voice of his friend, Skitter. Friend was not quite the  
  
correct term. A casual acquaintance he had happened to know for 16 years. Nothing  
  
more. Skitter prattled on, "I sure hope I don't get point."  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
Kaj thought back to when he first met Skitter, in a disreputable pub in the  
  
smoke-filled underbelly of Junon harbor. He was younger, then. Besides the patrons  
  
themselves, the barkeep himself was usually drunk as well, which made purloining a  
  
few gil from him a simple venture. Skitter apparently saw the ease too, for he was  
  
working the very same pub a very week after Kaj began his thieving. Kaj always  
  
suspected Skitter of jealousy of his fine work and constantly warred within himself  
  
over when he would confront his would-be successor.  
  
Kaj was far too docile for such thoughts, however, and so contented himself in  
  
becoming 'acquaintances' with the other drifter. They would work together,  
  
sometimes, once even robbing the very pub they frequented in their youth. Still,  
  
Skitter was only an acquaintance. And as an acquaintance, Kaj thought him easy to  
  
be disposed of. Unfortunately, this was not to be so.  
  
A shout from his commanding officer brought Kaj back to the present, "Form it  
  
up, men," his voice sounded muffled from beneath his mask, "they were seen  
  
heading this way."  
  
They. The infamous they who had caused so much. trouble? No. Annoyance?  
  
No. Discomfort. Discomfort at being marched all over the world in search of this  
  
renegade group, this AVALANCHE. Discomfort at this biting chill.  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
He had seen them once. Or, one of them anyway. The man with the blond, spikey  
  
mane. It was soon after he had joined the ShinRa army to escape the acquaintance  
  
Skitter. Skitter was not to be outdone. He, too, joined the army and some divine  
  
comedian had seen fit to place them in the same company. Kaj began to think he  
  
hated Skitter. He decided that wasn't it, and, instead, strode upon on air of  
  
indifference toward his comrade.  
  
He and said comrade were in the middle of a marching drill in the upper streets  
  
of Junon. The upper streets. The air. The sun. Kaj had twirled his machine gun in  
  
the same fashion so many times, he feared the bullets within would not know which  
  
way to exit when commanded to. Instead of dread, the thought filled him with  
  
mirth. Mirth from firing at an enemy and looking over to suddenly see his bullet in  
  
Skitter's abdomen. The blood. so much blood.  
  
Then came the one with the spike hair and gigantic sword. Though wearing a  
  
serious face, the man sauntered by the soldiers as if relaxed. Kaj hated this man.  
  
Hated him for sauntering. Hated him for relaxing. Hated him for.  
  
"Look alive," Skitter's voice intruded upon his thoughts, "Here comes Choco  
  
Earl," Commander Earl was neither a bird nor was he yellow; it always confused  
  
Kaj when he heard the nickname for his commander; he let it pass as he always did,  
  
"We're up front here. Old bastard better not give me point."  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
Mere hours earlier, Kaj was looking forward to a peaceful day of marching and  
  
twirling his gun for ten hours. Then they had showed up. Descending from the sky  
  
like angels, their arrival was associated more with demons. Kaj and Skitter's  
  
company was rushed out to find them. Word had it that they had gone  
  
underground, into the subway. They were making for the Sister Ray, or the 'really  
  
big kill everything machine', as Skitter so affectionately referred to it. The group  
  
had spilt up, some breaking into the ShinRa building, others causing general havoc  
  
throughout the city. His group had pursued those who entered the building.  
  
They were no longer in the building, however. They were on the streets.  
  
Heideggar and Scarlet, two of the higher-ups had given assurances of  
  
AVALANCHE's defeat. A new weapon of some sort. Oh well. It was not in Kaj's  
  
business to wonder. He had done as told and crowded into the alley with the other  
  
soldiers. Despite the annoying cold, he vowed he would be comfortable as long as he  
  
was not point.  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
The commander was a mere two men down the line from Skitter. Next to Skitter  
  
was Kaj. Next to Kaj was 0173. He probably had a name, but calling him 0173 in his  
  
mind was better than finding out his true name and having to talk to him. Kaj's  
  
number was 0175 and Skitter was 0174. Skitter called Kaj by his number once. For  
  
some reason unknown to even himself, Kaj had snapped at Skitter. He had a name.  
  
His name was Kaj. Beyond 0173 was the empty street. Heavy footfalls pounded  
  
some meters away. Pounded towards them.  
  
Choco Earl tapped Skitter on the shoulder without a word. Without a word.  
  
Skitter was not point. He kneeled down as if in thankful prayer, though the military  
  
called it a 'ready crouch'. His gun pointed out into the street. Choco Earl stood  
  
before Kaj and 0173. He lifted his right hand. Kaj's eyes followed that hand through  
  
its half-arc. Watched it fall solemnly through the air. Watched it land on his  
  
shoulder. His shoulder. 0173's shoulder. Without a word, the nameless number back  
  
up a step and crouched down.  
  
"You're point, son."  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
As the commander moved to the rear of the line, Kaj nudged his way to the front.  
  
The footfalls were close now.  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
He cocked and leveled his weapon as a shadow fell across the street. It was a  
  
rather large shadow, he thought.  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.'  
  
Kaj moved into the dim light of a streetlamp. The man with the gun-arm seemed  
  
to loom over him. Kaj squeezed the trigger and the bullets seemed to go everywhere  
  
except into the enemy. He resisted the urge to see if one had shot into Skitter.  
  
Then Kaj's chest exploded.  
  
He felt himself falling. He hit something and slid off, continuing the descent. He  
  
had fallen into 0173. As he looked up, Kaj saw an intoxicating woman punch the  
  
man in the jaw and 0173 straightened upright. Then he too, was ripped through  
  
with bullets.  
  
A moment later, the battle was ended. The rest of his comrades, including Skitter  
  
had retreated. The man with the gun arm thundered past his head. The female  
  
deftly made her way through the bodies as well.  
  
Then came the spikey-haired one. Relaxed. Sauntering. He could see it. He  
  
thought he saw the man with the huge sword turn and grin at him, mocking him.  
  
What little life that was left within Kaj burned in rage. Then, the spikey- headed one  
  
was gone, and Kaj's rage flew from him. In its' place was something Kaj rarely felt.  
  
He felt relaxed. Peaceful. He felt himself get up. Yet he was still lying down. He  
  
was going up. Up. Up. Up. Sauntering through the sky.  
  
***  
  
ShinRa company four came upon two bodies from another company. Quickly  
  
they ran past, knowing the terrorists were near. Hamin ran with his head down. He  
  
looked at the bodies distantly. He saw one was marked 0173. Another was 0175.  
  
Hamin didn't care.  
  
Hamin had no time to consider this.  
  
Hamin was preoccupied with one thought.  
  
He ran on, this one thought pervading his senses.  
  
'Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point. Don't be point.' 


End file.
